


Memories In The Ocean

by prsseux



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Adam Trueblood - Freeform, Arranged Marriage, Cheating, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Marisa Trueblood - Freeform, Maryse Lightwood Loves Her Children, POV Maryse Lightwood, Teen Pregnancy, sorta - Freeform, they are only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prsseux/pseuds/prsseux
Summary: She had gone through a lot, had faced pain and humiliation and regrets most would never imagine. But she would go through it all again — as many times as it was needed — if it meant at the end of it all, she would be surrounded by the laughter of her children.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Maryse Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood & Maryse Lightwood, Maryse Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Maryse Lightwood & Max Lightwood, Maryse Lightwood/Robert Lightwood
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Memories In The Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> > > This is me stepping into this fandom to proclaim my undying love for Maryse Lightwood aka the world's best mum.   
>   
> Before you start, please note that this was written based on the novels' description of the Lightwoods, and while I do love what the TV Show did with the casting for Maryse in particular, I opted to portray her and her family as they are in the books.  
>   
> That being said !! This is filled to the brim with my own headcanons for Maryse, you will especially see that in her age. I have always pictured Maryse being way too young when she married Robert, thus I have written it like that here. So it goes without saying that this will be about a 15 year old girl getting married to a 20 year old man. I will not be describing any intimacies between Maryse and Robert, so everything here will be implied, especially because you will see Alec, Izzy and Max, so you know what happened.  
>   
> If you are uncomfortable with that, this might not be for you.  
>   
> I think that's all I needed to explain, I hope you enjoy whatever this is. Make sure to leave some comments, kudos, suggestions or just come talk to me about Maryse because I love her and you should too.

The morning of her wedding was still crystal clear in her memory. She had woken up early, early enough that the birds outside her window hadn't begun their incessant chirping; early enough for her to agonise in bed for hours until her mother burst through her room. The Trueblood matriarch had pulled the thick blue curtains open, letting the sun illuminate Maryse's room, its light brighter, reflected by the Glass City.

Those few seconds her mother allowed her to remain in bed, Maryse remembered catching something in her grey eyes ― fear? regret? Something that, to this day, Maryse couldn't quite figure out the meaning to. And then that glint was gone, and Marisa Trueblood was hauling her up, pushing her into the shower, snapping in French that they had no time to lose.

Never would she have more people fussing over her than on that day, from doing her hair and makeup and dressing her in the luxurious gown. Maryse had never had that many people walking in and out of her family home. But what she remembered the most was not the sting of her blue eyes as one of her mother's friends lined them with liner, or how tight they tied her up in her wedding dress. No, instead, what her mind clung to was the terror she felt as she walked down to the altar, surrounded by renowned members of the Clave ― surrounded by the Lightwoods and their judging green eyes, by their friends and families and by the Silent Brothers. If she could pinpoint a moment in which she felt most scared, it would be that one.

As her father proudly handed her over to Robert, Maryse had never felt more like a child. Never once in her life had she wanted to turn around and call out for her mother, to run to her father's arms, to call out for her brother more than at that very moment. However, she did no such thing. Standing as tall as her stature would allow her, Maryse smiled, forced herself not to show how scared she was for her future. She was a Trueblood, she was her mother's daughter, and she would bring honour to their name.

And at 15, she became Maryse Eileen Lightwood, Robert Lightwood's wife; Valentine's First General and youngest member of The Circle.

Even at that young age, Maryse knew what was expected of her, and, like everything she did, she excelled in the art of being a wife. Robert became her priority ― as her mother had taught her ― then came the Circle and the Clave.

There was nothing bad about being with Robert, he took care of her and she took care of him, but there was no love between them ― no attraction other than the simple knowledge that both of them were considered beautiful. But they compromised for each other; the moment they took that marriage rune, they swore on the Angel to look after each other, to be together no matter what. And Maryse could remember that perhaps the only time she saw something akin to love in Robert's gaze was when she, a year later, told him she was expecting their first child.

The conversation between them in her last months of pregnancy would always be something she recalled with fondness. Trying to choose the name of their firstborn was no easy task, and Maryse knew she had no right to intervene too much. The children she would bear were Robert's legacy ― the Lightwood legacy ― and Maryse, despite having taken her husband's last name, would always be a Trueblood at heart.

She recalled how he had approached her, voice soft and hazel eyes hesitant; however, he knew her dislike for stalling, and so he had taken a deep breath and with as much confidence as she thought he could muster he said: "How about Gideon?" to which she had gawked up at him.

"You want to call our first child _'Gideon'_?" Her big blue eyes meeting warm hazel ones, a sort of playful judgement in them. And for the first time in years, Maryse had watched as her husband stuttered, a deep flush colouring his tanned cheeks. "Okay, maybe that is not the best first name..." he had mumbled, and Maryse, taking pity on him, went back to the book in her hands. Flipping through the Lightwood family history, she found a name that caught her eyes.

Alexander; protector of mankind.

"How about..." she had begun, turning back to look at Robert, his attention now back on her. "Alexander? Alexander Gideon Lightwood."

"That is quite a name, Maryse. Are you sure you want our child to have such a strong name? He might become too much to handle." Robert had joked, sitting next to her and placing a hand on her belly.

"Yes. Alexander Gideon, our mighty warrior, our little protector of mankind"

On September 12th, 1989, all that could be heard from the Lightwood household were Maryse's screams. In her room, surrounded by Silent Brothers, all she had wanted was a familiar presence ― Robert had been away on a mission, her parents refusing to hire a warlock for a portal. And so, she faced the pain alone. She had followed every instruction given by the Brothers, but it was hard to find comfort in their blended voices, hard to find any comfort in their cold hands.

Those hours were spent in agony, a blend of screams, echoes of haunting voices, and a sudden shout of her name. That's when she realised Robert had arrived, and for once Maryse had allowed herself to be as young as she was, for once she had allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of her husband. Tears streaming down her face as she told him how much it hurt.

And then, there was crying ― a child's wail ― and the excruciating pain was gone, only a dull ache and bone-deep exhaustion lingering in her body. The feeling of staring at her son for the first time would never leave her, Maryse could recall it as well now as she did back then; the awe, the overwhelming love blooming in her chest as she gazed upon that red and scrunched up little face. Robert had been by her side then, a hand brushing her hair away from her face, the other gently hovering over the small bundle in her arms. His eyes had been filled with tears, but the smile on his face was blinding even in memory.

"Welcome to the world, Alexander..." he had mumbled, kissing her forehead, and letting one of his fingers trace the baby's cheek. And when Alexander reacted to his father's voice, Maryse gasped loudly. Her son had not inherited his father's eyes, nor had he gotten the venomous green hues most Lightwoods seemed to have.

Alexander had inherited her sky-blue eyes.

"Ah, he's momma's boy, I see." Robert laughed, and Maryse's heart soared, because that he was. Alexander was hers, her baby, her blessing. And she would never love anyone ― anything ― more than she loved him.

If she stopped to think for a moment, Maryse would always marvel at how her life had changed so suddenly. In less than a blink of an eye, she went from being a feisty toddler to being sixteen, married, and with a baby. On top of all of that, she was still a Shadowhunter ― still part of the Circle, still trapped in Valentine's lies. Now she knew that she had only survived, had only gotten herself and Robert out because of Alec. Because Alexander had always been in her mind.

After the uprising, things between her and Robert had started to fall apart. He blamed her, and she could understand that; she had always been more involved in the Circle than he had, and she suspected he only stayed that long because she was still enchanted by Valentine's words. She had taken the blame, bearing that burden on her young shoulders as she carried her family forward.

But now that she was older, perhaps she resented Robert a bit. She had been no more than a child back then; naive and so easily manipulated by those older than her. But Robert, he had been an adult. He had been able to see through Valentine's lies with much more ease. Shouldn't he have tried to make her see reason? Shouldn't he have guided her toward a better path?

Those first few months in New York had been hell on earth; so much to get used to, so far away from the glittering glass walls of Idris. At 17, Maryse hardly knew how to navigate this new lifestyle, and with Robert and Hodge blaming her for the outcome of the trials the only thing keeping her from fully breaking down was Alec. Her sweet and gentle Alec that, at one year old, had already been so in tune with her emotions.

She recalled spending every moment of spare time she had with Alexander, reading to him or chasing him around the imposing walls of the Institute ― hearing his childish laughter echoing through the halls, alerting everyone to his presence, watching as he toddled away from her and she pretended to fall behind. Alexander had taught her to be a mother, taught her what it meant to care for someone so much you would fight hordes of greater demons without a weapon just so they could survive; taught her to not be so nervous, to not spend night after night beside his bed just to see that he was breathing.

So, a year later, when Isabelle was born and Maryse was subjected once again to that overwhelming feeling of unconditional love as she stared at her daughter's brown eyes, there was no more fear in her heart. No more hesitation when it came to holding the small child or caring for her. All there was, was love.

Isabelle had been a surprise; Maryse clearly remembered the shock when Brother Zachariah told her she was expecting another child. And soon enough Maryse knew this pregnancy would be wildly different from her first.

When expecting Alec, there hadn't been a lot of cravings, nor morning sickness. The most she had ever faced were the occasional backaches and swollen feet. But with Isabelle, Maryse was being driven up the walls. She felt like she would throttle anyone that as much as looked in her direction, her emotions bubbling just beneath her skin. Later, when she was a bit older, she would recall the way Valentine used to describe her ― "You're the ocean, Maryse. Mostly calm and collected, but capable of destruction beyond imagination. And Robert, well, Robert is the earth, as solid and reliable as the very ground we stand on."

And if she were the ocean, so was Alec ― beneath those blue eyes lurked power she knew no one could rival. She could see it when her two-year-old stared at his baby sister; the urge to protect. The same way Alec was hers, Isabelle was Alec's. And Maryse would never take her from him.

But in that same way, Isabelle was not the ocean, calm and complacent until provoked; nor was she like her father; reliable and steady. No, Isabelle was a fire. She was lively and unrelenting, the flame in her dark eyes an indication that she would get what she wanted no matter what. And from the moment she was born, she was all Robert could see. If Alec was a momma's boy, Isabelle certainly had been a daddy's girl.

As she had done right after their exile, Maryse spent every moment she could with her children, avoiding the resentful looks she'd get from Hodge, and the suspicion that Robert was no longer faithful to her. She would play with them and watch as they shared secrets in baby-broken French. She was the one who initiated training them. She was the one who had taught Isabelle about taking care of herself, of how to deal with her hair; and when the young girl had come to her asking for makeup, it had been Maryse to teach her how to apply it flawlessly.

As the years went by and tension between her and Robert grew, Maryse turned colder, the colour of her eyes resembling a stormy ocean getting angrier and angrier. But her love for her children remained just as pure and just as strong. Still, she had had to harden them, to make them into the perfect warriors ― and if after every harsh lesson, every critique, she would sneak into their respective bedrooms and whisper apologies into their ears as she cried, neither of them had to know.

Catching Robert in bed with Annemarie was still one of the most painful memories she had from her past, maybe because her marriage rune had sizzled against her skin ― their promise to the Angel being broken. But she would recall with a sadistic hint of satisfaction the terrified look on Robert's face, because Maryse apparently hadn't reacted how he expected her to. Instead of screaming and attacking him, she had done something far worse. For the first time since they had met all those years ago in the Academy, Maryse had stared him down. Despite her height, she had looked down on him like he was more repulsive than a Shax demon.

Maryse had given the same look to Annemarie, her blue eyes burning as she stared at the woman. But while her gaze had made Robert freeze, it caused the petite female next to him to flinch as if she had been struck. And, satisfied, Maryse had gone back to the Institute.

Maxwell had been conceived in the fight months after Maryse's discovery. Robert had been desperate to save the family name, and he had tried to talk to her, but she had exploded. And the result had been careless and angry sex, after which Maryse had risen from their bed and uttered words that Robert would never forget.

"This was a mistake and it will _never_ happen again. You're lucky Alexander and Isabelle are everything to me. They are the only reason I won't destroy your family name." And with those acidic blue eyes, she stared him down again and left.

She had waited as long as she could to tell him she was pregnant again, and got the same reaction she had gotten the first two times. That warm glint in his hazel eyes, the goofy-looking smile on his face. That time, however, Maryse didn't allow him to hug her. She had no longer needed his support. She had been 25, Alec and Isabelle were 9 and 7 respectively.

In a family with such elemental personalities as theirs, where the ocean prevailed but the fire burned bright even as the earth seemed to falter beneath their feet, Maxwell Lightwood came as the gentle wind. Playful and ambitious, but shy, almost hesitant to engage. And yet he was so loved, so loved by each and every single member of his family. Her children doted on their infant brother, begging her to allow them to help her; and she let them.

Max had brought balance to their family. Robert decided to stay for the sake of the young boy; for the sake of the elated glint in Isabelle's dark eyes, for the sake of easing the tension in Alec's still very small shoulders. Things were alright for a while, and she stored those peaceful almost mundane moments fondly in her mind: taking turns tending to the baby at night, training Isabelle and Alec along with Hodge as Robert kept to his duties as Head of the Institute, going out on missions and hunting demons.

But then the news of Michael Wayland's death reached them, and the Clave approached them with a request ― an order disguised with over-politeness and false smiles that had Maryse's blood boiling; but, like the perfect wife she was, she had stood by her husband, smiling back and agreeing to take in Michael's son.

And that's when, at 26, Maryse gained another son. Jonathan Christopher Wayland arrived at their institute and all she could think was ― he looks nothing like Michael. But that look in his golden eyes, that look of a child starved of love and affection, had her instincts screaming at her. It didn't take long for her to grow to see the golden boy as her son, to see him as family. And when he delightedly accepted the nickname she bestowed upon him, her mind began to see him not as Jonathan Christopher Wayland, but as Jace Lightwood, her son. Another one of her babies.

Jace fit in with them remarkably well, but Jace was...different. He wasn't calm like the ocean, nor lively like fire, he wasn't steady like the earth nor playful and timid like the wind. Jace was bright ― his presence almost blinding, he highlighted the beauty of the ocean, blended with the fire, and healed the earth while playing in the wind. He had been meant to be with them and Maryse would fight for him no matter what. He was as much her child as were Alec, Izzy, and Max.

Her thoughts blended together. Her tea was probably cold and undrinkable by now, but she enjoyed reminiscing from time to time.

"....Um?"

She had the impression someone was calling her, but she was so deep in her memories it was hard to be sure. When the voice echoed again, closer this time, Maryse blinked her impossibly blue eyes down and saw three pairs of eyes staring up at her: sapphire blue, molten gold, and russet brown, glittering up at her as they used to when they were children.

They were all crouched in front of her, Isabelle in the middle, her hands gently resting on Maryse's knees. "Are you okay, Mummy?" Isabelle asked gently, her voice almost careful, eyes wide and pleading. Maryse could see the glint of worry in her children's eyes.

"You've been here for hours, mum, is everything alright?" her eldest asked, a frown on his beautiful face.

"What's going on, Mum?" Jace's deep voice questioned, stance screaming protectiveness. He had taken the news of Robert’s infidelity the hardest, hovering over her for months before he even allowed his adoptive father to get near her, despite the fact that it had been years ago.

“Oh, by the Angel, have I lost track of time?”

She looked around the huge library of the Institute to see that the lovely sunlight which had previously bathed her in gold had started to turn to silver. “Have you three already eaten?” It was surely a little bit past dinner time; how she had gotten so lost in her memories was beyond her. Maybe age was really catching up to her.

“Not yet, we were waiting for you. But then Izzy pointed out no one had seen you all day. And then Alec got worried so we started looking for you.” Jace supplied, earning an annoyed look from his Parabatai which caused both Isabelle and Maryse to giggle.

“Well, since I have gotten you three all worried, perhaps I can make it up to you by cooking dinner?” The Lightwood Matriarch suggested, her previously unfocused eyes now looking more lively and mischievous.

“Home-cooked food? Are you sure you’re okay, Mum?” her Alec teased her, but the tension in his shoulders vanished, and his sapphire eyes now looked lighter. She didn’t deserve him — didn’t deserve any of them.

“Oh, can I help? Please please please please!” Isabelle practically jumped on her spot, dark eyes endless as she searched her mother’s face for permission.

“Of course you can, Isabelle. But I’m calling the shots, and you are just following my lead, understood?” Maryse said, slowly standing from the lavish but old couch.

“Yes, Ma’am!” the young girl squealed excitedly. It wasn’t often Maryse let her help in the kitchen.

“What are we having, Mum?” Jace asked as the four of them made their way to the kitchen. Maryse watched them as they spoke excitedly.

“Well, I was thinking maybe...spaghetti?” She turned her ocean blue eyes to the golden boy, and her heart soared at the delight on his face.

“ _Oh fuck yes!_ ”

His exclamation was met with a full body laugh from Isabelle who dashed to the kitchen, while Alexander met the improper language with an exasperated “Jace!” which in turn had his Parabatai rushing to follow their sister.

Maryse smiled for what felt like the first time in years, her heart feeling like it would burst from her chest in sheer happiness. She had gone through a lot, had faced pain and humiliation and regrets most would never imagine. But she would go through it all again — as many times as it was needed — if it meant at the end of it all, she would be surrounded by the laughter of her children, who were far from being kids. Alexander standing tall at 21, while Jace and Isabelle followed close behind at 19.

Still, as they argued about what sauce to make for their spaghetti — Isabelle forcing her siblings to wear cutesy aprons while menacingly holding a wooden spoon — Maryse knew they would always be her babies. Hers to love and protect for as long as the Angel allowed her to live.

**Author's Note:**

> > > Before I go, I need to give Wes, my dearest friend a huge shout out for reading this through and correcting my hideous punctuation mistakes and giving me editing suggestions. So, Wes, if you're seeing this: I love you, Dad™


End file.
